


One Hell of a Ride

by DancesWithCybermen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Love, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 05:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancesWithCybermen/pseuds/DancesWithCybermen
Summary: In response to a request from Hollie (@scullysmccord on Twitter) for “a mid-s11 fic where Mulder takes Scully away for the weekend to a fancy-ass hotel, and it turns out Skinner is there for a conference, and that’s when he realises that they’re back together.” Here you go! Takes place smack in the middle of S11, sometime after “Ghouli” but before “Kitten.”





	One Hell of a Ride

The case was a bust. The “swamp monsters” that had been terrorizing a small central Florida town turned out to be a rather hardy group of homeless people holed up in an isolated, long-abandoned, forgotten Everglades cabin. Even the property tax assessor didn’t know about the goddamn place, but these people found it. It was ingenious, really. The alligators, mosquitoes, flying roaches, and overall inhospitable environment kept everyone away. If they hadn’t started scavenging the town for supplies, they might have remained undiscovered for years.

Mulder made a mental note: If the alien invasion apocalypse ever does happen, check the Everglades for forgotten cabins to use as bug-out shacks.  
They had several more days before they were expected back in D.C. It was unseasonably cold in Florida this year, but the sun was out, and there was no ice or snow on the ground. Year-round residents were putting on coats, but to the native New Englander, it felt like summer. It lifted his mood, and he wasn’t in any hurry to go back up North and dig his house and car out of the snow. Again.

Mulder watched Scully pack; she was solemn. Ever since they’d discovered their son was still alive, they’d both been experiencing mood swings, alternating between elation that he was out there somewhere, sorrow that he’d run away from them, and fear of what was going to happen to him. Yes, he had those powers, but he was still only a 16-year-old boy, and he had the mindset and maturity level of a 16-year-old boy; the debacle with his two girlfriends proved that.

He needed a break. She needed a break. They were in a lull between cases. Nobody would miss them if they didn’t come back until Monday. They were going to take a break.

Scully zipped her bag shut. “Are you ready, Mulder? We need to get to the airport in Orlando.”

Mulder approached her and put his arms on her shoulders. “We’re not flying out today.”

“Why? Did we catch another case down here?” He grinned, and Scully raised her eyebrow. “Mulder…”

“When’s the last time we had a romantic getaway, Scully?”

“According to you, when we were waiting for an informant to meet us in a parking garage.”

“No, a real romantic getaway, just the two of us, no work, no X-Files, just us relaxing and having fun together.”

“Hmmmmm. What did you do, Mulder?”

He pulled out his phone, brought up a hotel on TripAdvisor, and handed it to her. “Scully, we are on our way to three nights at the five-star Rosamada Suites and Conference Center, featuring luxurious guest suites in a beautifully landscaped tropical setting just minutes from all of Orlando’s world-famous theme parks!”

Mulder didn’t think Scully’s eyebrow could raise any further, but it did. “They really saw you coming, didn’t they?” She shook her head. “I’m not really interested in going to a crowded, overpriced theme park.”

“We don’t have to go to the parks. Look, Scully!” He moved to stand behind her and pointed at the screen. “See? The hotel has an outdoor pool with a tiki bar, a hot tub, and a fitness center and spa. It’s walking distance from the ICON Orlando Entertainment Center and a giant observation wheel that takes you 400 feet in the air. That would be so rad!”

“Please don’t say ‘rad,’ Mulder.”

“I got us the Deluxe Suite with a jetted tub, Scully.”

He felt her relax, and he knew he’d gotten her buy-in. Loving the same woman for 25 years had many benefits, like knowing that nice tubs were her weak spot. She sighed. “Well, we don’t have any other cases right now, and it would be good to get away—" He pulled her around to face him and pulled her into a kiss. When they finally broke away, she said, “We need to stop at the outlet mall on the way there and buy some swimwear and comfortable clothes. I just brought work stuff.”

“I’ll help you pick out just the right bikini.”

She smacked his arm playfully.

**********************************************

The Rosamada consisted of two high-rise buildings and a one-floor conference center, all surrounding a center courtyard with a pool. Their room was much smaller than it had appeared in the hotel’s photos, and the décor was drab and dated – a typical resort hotel that over-promises and under-delivers, Mulder thought – but Scully beamed at the huge jetted tub, which was as advertised, and their top-floor room had a nice balcony overlooking the pool area.

He’d seriously overpaid for this room, but seeing her smile like that was worth every penny. They hadn’t been back together as a couple that long, and he’d wanted to do something like this for her. He envisioned them having a leisurely breakfast on that balcony the next morning, dressed in bathrobes and preferably nothing else.

After inspecting the tub, Scully wandered out onto the balcony, and Mulder joined her, putting his arms around her from behind. He saw people in business dress milling around the conference center, some of them clearly casting wistful glances at the handful of vacationers enjoying the pool and tiki bar. Poor sobs, he thought. Probably one of those bullshit “teamwork workshops” or some other such corporate nonsense.

He nuzzled her neck. “We have a couple hours before dinner. Let’s go down to the pool. I want to see you in your bathing suit.” Scully had flatly refused to consider the string bikinis Mulder pushed her towards at the outlet mall, instead choosing a simple black one-piece with a floral pattern. “Something that won’t look ridiculous on a woman my age,” she’d said, whatever that meant. Mulder, on the other hand, didn’t care about age-appropriate swimwear. He was on vacation, dammit. He’d chosen what Scully said had to be the loudest, most obnoxious pair of swim trunks in the store, featuring a giant flamingo centered against a blue tropical background. He retorted that it would look great with the tee-shirt he’d snagged at a gas station, which was emblazoned with an image of Mickey Mouse riding an alligator and the slogan “Florida as F*ck.”

“Well, they did bleep out the ‘fuck,’” Mulder told her as she put her face into her hands. She wanted him to think she was mortified, but he knew she was really hiding a smile.

*******************************************

Walter Skinner walked out of the conference center and toward the pool area. What kind of sadist had decided to hold a “leadership seminar” in America’s number-one vacation spot, where it was sunny and beautiful while it was freezing-ass fucking cold in the rest of the country, then ensured that the attendees’ schedules were so packed, they wouldn’t have a chance to leave the hotel grounds?

Well goddamn it, he was at least going to step outside and enjoy the nice weather for 10 minutes.

Skinner hated these fucking things. What a colossal waste of time, he thought. It’s not like I don’t have plenty of real work to do up in D.C. If I hear someone say “think outside the box” or “win-win” one more fucking time…

“PUT ME DOWN, MULDER!”

Now, that was something he wasn’t expecting to hear. The unmistakable voice was followed by a girlish shriek and splashing, a very familiar man’s voice responding, “I’m gonna getcha,” and more shrieking, splashing, and laughter.

The pool was large and had a giant water slide structure in the middle that was made up to look like a tropical island. Skinner hid behind the tiki bar and observed his two perpetual problem children cavorting in the pool. Scully was swimming away from Mulder, who dove under the water, only to reemerge right in front of her, growling playfully. She laughed as he grabbed her and pulled her up into a kiss. They looked like any other couple on vacation, having the time of their lives.

Well, that puts an end to the latest betting pool up in the bullpen, Skinner thought. Since Mulder and Scully had returned to the Bureau, the bet hadn’t been on if, but when they were going to get back together as a couple. They played it close to the vest, like they always had. Skinner figured they did it more to annoy the other agents than anything. Relationships and even marriages between agents weren’t verboten at the FBI. It was understood that when you worked this sort of dangerous, demanding job, your dating pool was limited to other people who could understand your job. Mulder and Scully’s case was an extreme example of this. He couldn’t imagine Mulder explaining that whole “resurrecting from the dead” thing to a new girlfriend, or a new boyfriend hearing about Scully’s abduction and not wanting to have her committed for a psychiatric hold. No one could truly understand what they had been through except for each other.

He heard someone calling him; he was about to be late for yet another critical workshop on finding your ideal leadership style, or something like that. He sighed and headed back toward the conference center.

************************************

They had dinner and drinks at a tavern a short walk from their hotel and across the street from the giant Ferris wheel at ICON Orlando. The restaurant had outdoor seating and allowed dogs. Scully happily accepted face kisses from a friendly lab-shepherd mix that belonged to the couple at the table next to theirs. “I really want another dog someday,” she said.

Plenty of room at the house for a dog, Mulder thought, smiling. He didn’t want to say things like that out loud just yet. Things were going well. They were going really well, but Scully had told him she wanted to go slow. She spent nights at their house, and she even called it _their_ house, but she wasn’t ready to move back in yet. Mulder was afraid to push her. He was thrilled she was not only back in his life, but back in his arms and bed. Even if this was the way it would be forever, he’d take it. He couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else, and the very thought of her with someone else made him physically ill.

Loosened up by a few beers and the resort atmosphere, they wandered over to the entertainment complex and bought tickets that included a visit to the aquarium and Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum in addition to the Ferris wheel. They toured the aquarium and the wax museum first, saving the Ferris wheel ride for last. By the time they boarded, night was falling over Orlando.

The ICON Orlando Ferris wheel was in perpetual motion. It didn’t stop to pick up passengers; it just moved very, very slowly. Instead of being strapped into seats, passengers stepped into fully enclosed cars as they passed the loading area. It wasn’t terribly crowded, so Mulder and Scully got their own car and began their slow ascent to 400 feet above the city.

Up and up they went. “You were right, Mulder. This is amazing,” Scully said, looking down at the city. They weren’t even at the apex yet, but they could see the twinkling lights of their hotel, some of the rides at Universal Studios, and the Orange County Convention Center.

Her smile lit up her entire face, and the lights from the Ferris wheel reflected in her eyes. Mulder’s breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful, and they had this car _all to themselves._

“This is more amazing,” he said with a sly grin as he pulled her into a kiss. She opened her mouth to grant him entrance, and their tongues caressed each other for a few moments before he began making his way down her neck. She groaned as he slipped his hands under her tee-shirt, moving up to her breasts and using his thumbs to rub her nipples. They got rock-hard, and she involuntarily thrust her hips against his.

“Mulder…” she managed to croak out.

“Hmmmm?” He pushed her bra and shirt out of the way and took a nipple into his mouth.

“Mulder – OH GOD. Mmmmmppph. We only have a few minutes before we … OH MY GOD.”

He released her nipple with a pop and undid her shorts. “That’s all I need.” In one swift motion, he had her shorts and panties around her ankles, and he got down on his knees and looked up at her. He could smell her musky arousal, and when he stuck a finger inside her, he was greeted with soaking wetness. She was panting, bucking against his hand despite herself. He removed his finger, parted her thighs, and licked his lips.

“Mulder, what if somebody … OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

He lapped up the wetness between her legs, taking the time to tell her, “God, you taste so fucking good,” before he put his palms on her ass cheeks and pulled her crotch into his face. He could tell by the sounds she was making and the way she was bucking against his face, her hands in his hair, that she was close. If they’d not been in a semi-public area and on a time clock, he’d have taken his time with her, teased her, drawn it out until she was begging him to make her come. That was okay; he would make up for it by giving her a massive orgasm. He went right for her clit, rubbing the little nub with the tip of his tongue until he heard her cry out his name and felt pulsations and a surge of wetness against his face.

He braced her as she came down – good thing he’d been hauling heavy weights in the gym – then stood up to kiss her. They had passed the apex of the ride and were about halfway down when she put her clothes back on and handed him a tissue to wipe the sex glaze off his face.

“I’m going to get you for that one, Mulder,” she teased him.

“I sincerely hope so,” he said, adjusting his shorts so his raging hard-on wasn’t so obvious. He was uncomfortable, but it had been worth it; he’d wanted this to be about her.  
As they exited the ride, she took his hand and pulled him back toward the ticket area instead of the exit. “Don’t you want to walk back to the hotel?” he asked.

“No, we’re taking another ride. I didn’t see everything I wanted to see,” she replied, giving him a sultry look.

***********************************************

Skinner approached the elevators and pushed the UP button. Not only had his entire fucking day been spent in ridiculous “workshops,” but he’d been required to attend a rubber-chicken dinner as well. God forbid they give the attendees one goddamn evening to get dinner at a venue of their choosing. What a miserable trip.

Fuck it. That rubber chicken was going to give him indigestion tonight, rendering him too ill to attend the next day’s “festivities.” It was a big hotel. He’d put on a baseball cap and sneak out while everyone else was trapped over at that conference center.

His back was to the lobby area when they approached, so Mulder and Scully were taken entirely by surprise when they found themselves staring right at Assistant Director 

Skinner at the elevators. Mulder removed his hand from the small of Scully’s back, cleared his throat, and stood up straight. Both of them looked flustered, their hair mussed and their clothes askew.

He didn’t want to know. He just didn’t.

“Uh, sir,” Mulder stammered, shifting uncomfortably. “We didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Apparently not.”

“We wrapped up that case near Lakeland, sir, and there was nothing else pending, so we decided to use a couple of vacation days to decompress,” Scully rushed to explain. 

“We’re using our own money, not the Bureau’s.”

“Mulder, can I talk to you privately for a moment?”

Mulder gulped, put his head down, and followed Skinner into the lobby, just out of Scully’s earshot. “Sir, I can explain—” he started.

Skinner put his hand up. “Mulder, you are the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. Do you know why?”

“Because you’re not going to tell Deputy Director Kersh or anyone else about this, sir?”

“No.” He nodded towards Scully, who was looking in their direction, worried. “Because, for some reason known only to God and Agent Scully, that woman keeps coming back to you no matter how badly you fuck up.” He paused. “That’s love, Agent Mulder, and lots of people go their entire lives without experiencing it. Don’t fuck this up again.”

“I – I won’t, sir.” He straightened his shirt. “Thank you, sir.”

“I expect that you and Agent Scully will have your reports on the ‘swamp monster’ case on my desk first thing Monday morning, Agent Mulder.”

“Absolutely, sir.” The elevator dinged, and Mulder pointed to it. “There’s—”

“I’ll take the next one, thank you.”

“Um, uh, okay. Have a wonderful evening, sir.” Mulder hurried back over to Scully, who was holding the elevator. After the doors closed, Skinner smiled, then walked back over and pushed the UP button again.

Someone at the conference had said they’d been on that Ferris wheel down the street, and it was a hell of a ride. Maybe he’d check that out tomorrow.


End file.
